CHAPTER XVIII
THE RANSOM
Marsyas passed up to his room to put his belongings together. Thesound of his movements within reached Lydia in her refuge, and, when hecame forth, she stood in the gloom of the hall without, awaiting him.
Moved with a little fear of her reproach, he went to her, with extendedhands.
"What have I done?" she whispered.
"Thou hast done nothing," he said quickly. "I blame myself for keepingthe amulet about me, when I should have destroyed it. But I couldnot--I have not yet; because--it is thine!"
"But I kept silence--I who owned the crucifix--"
"I made thee keep silence!"
"But what have they said to thee; what wilt thou do?" she insisted.
"I go without more obloquy than I brought hither with me; I wasaccused, before; I could stand further accusation, for thy sake! Theyhave said nothing; done nothing--I go to Rhacotis, to await thedeparture of Agrippa, who goes to Rome at the end of three days--nay;peace!" he broke off, as a momentous resolution gathered in her paleface. "Thou wilt keep silence, else I do this thing in vain!"
"I will not slander myself!" she cried. "I am not afraid to confess myfault--"
"But thou shall not do it!" he declared. "The punishment for it wouldnot be alone for thyself! Choose between the quiet of thy conscienceand the peace and pride of thy father! Bethink thee, the inestimableharm thou canst do by this thing! Be not deceived that the story ofthy lapse would be kept under thy father's roof. That ignoble pagangovernor below has no care for thy sweet fame! He would tell it; thymaidens would hear of it and fear thee or follow thee! Thy father'sgovernment over his people would be weakened; the elders of theSynagogue would question him--Lydia, suffer the little hurt ofconscience for thine own account, rather than afflict many for thypride's sake!"
Her small hands, white in the darkness of the corridor, were twistedabout each other in distress. Marsyas' pity was stirred to the deepest.
"How unhappy thou hast been!" he said, touching upon her apostasy."Give over thy wavering and be the true daughter of God, once more!Let us destroy this evil amulet!"
He plucked the crucifix from his tunic and caught it between his handsto break it, when she sprang toward him and seized his wrists.
"Do not so!" she besought, her eyes large with fright.
He had forced her to defend it, and she had stood to the breach; he hadproved the gravity of her disaffection for the faith of Abraham.
"Why wilt thou endanger thyself for this social drift?" he demandedpassionately. "Lydia! How canst thou turn from the faith of thyfathers?"
"I--I am not worthy to be a Nazarene!" she answered. "They areforbidden to enact a falsehood!"
"Let be; I do not care for their philosophy; it is like the Law ofRome.--an empty armor that any knave can wear. But I urge thee tobehold what misery thou invitest upon thyself! What will come of it?Immortal as thou art in soul, thou canst not keep alive the singlespark of wisdom in the ashes of their folly; thou canst not save themagainst the combined vengeance of the whole world! But thou canst bedisgraced with them, persecuted with them, and die with them!Unhallowed the day that ever Classicus spoke their name to thee!Cursed be his words! May the Lord treasure them up against him--!"
"Hush! hush!" she whispered.
He became calm with an effort.
"Lydia," he began after a pause, "it is a poor intelligence that cannot foresee as ably as the augurs. One successful life givesopportunity, to all that spring from it, to be successful; a failurescatters the seed of misfortune through all its blood. Choose thou forthyself and thou choosest for a nation which comes after thee. I seethee radiant, crowned, worshiped; and if they who come up under thyguidance walk as thou dost walk, Lydia shall give queens untoprincipalities and rulers unto satrapies. These be days when women ofvirtue and women of remark; women of wisdom are remembered women. Andthou, virtuous, wise and noble--the empresses of coming Caesars willassume thy name to conceal their tarnishment under a badge of luster!This on one hand. On the other thou shalt flee from the stones of therabble, come unto the humiliation of thy womanhood and the agony of thybody in the torture-cell, and die like a criminal!"
She shrank away with a quivering sound and flung her hands over herears. He caught her and drew her close, until she all but rested onhis breast.
"Lydia, naught but mine extremity could make me speak thus to thee," hesaid tremulously and in a passion of appeal. "If the words be hideous,let the actualities that they mean warn thee in time!"
"But--thou dost not understand," she faltered, drawing away from him.
"I do understand; through anguish and rancor and suffering, I havelearned. Must I give all to the vengeance of God, who visitethapostates for their iniquity? Lydia, depart not from the righteousreligion, I implore thee. Behold its great age," he went on, speakingrapidly and with quickened breath, "behold its history, its monuments,its achievements, its great exponents, its infallibility! The rest ofthe world was an unimagined futurity when an able son of thy race wasminister to Pharaoh and lord over the whole land of Egypt. The godlykings of thy people were poets and musicians when Pindar's and Homer'sancestors were still Peloponnesian fauns with horns in their hair.Before Isis and Osiris, before Bel and Astarte, thy God was moldinguniverses and hanging stars in the sky. And lo! the sons of thePharaohs are wasted weaklings, fit only for slaves; the Chaldees aredust in the dust of their cities; Babylonia is hunting-ground forjackals and the perch of bats; Rome--even Rome's greatness hathreturned into the sinews of her hills, but there is no decadence inIsrael, no weakness in her God! Aid not in the perversion of herancient faith--thou who art the incarnation of her queens--"
He halted, but only for an instant, in which he seemed to throw offrecurring restraint and drove on:
"David did not seek for one more lovely, nor Solomon for one more wise!Truth, even Truth demands dear tribute when it takes a life. For amere scintillation of verity, wilt thou die?"
"I--I fear not," she answered painfully. "I--who could be affrightedout of telling a truth!"
Not his prayer, but the Nazarene's teaching had weight with her, atthat moment!
"All thy hazard of life and fame for their vague philosophy," he cried,"and not one stir of pity for me!"
There was a moment of complete silence; then she lifted her face.
"Thou knowest better," she said, "thou, who labored in vain withStephen, who loved thee!"
His heart contracted; for a moment he entertained as practicable aresolve to stay stubbornly under the alabarch's roof until he hadbroken the determination of this sweet erring girl to destroy herself.He drew in his breath to speak, but the futileness of his wordsoccurred to him. Again, he had a thought of telling the alabarchprivately of his daughter's peril, but instantly doubted that the goodold Jew could move her. While he debated desperately with himself, shedrew, nearer to him.
"Be not angry with me! If thou leavest Alexandria in three days, itmay be that I--shall not see thee again--"
"So I am dismissed to know no rest until I have brought Saul of Tarsuslow, for thy sake, as well as for Stephen's!"
He knew at the next breath that he had hurt her, and repented.
"I shall see thee once more," he said hurriedly, feeling that he darednot make retraction. He took up the pilgrim's wallet containing hisbelongings, and put out his hand to her. She took it, so wistfully, sosorrowfully, that a wave of compunction swept over him. Bending low,he pressed his lips to her palm, and hastened, full of agitation, outof the alabarch's house.
The preparations for the Feast of Flora had been brought tocompleteness. The funds for the lavish display had come out of thetaxes upon provinces, the flamens managed it, the patricians and therich patronized it and all Alexandria, whether rich or poor, free orenslaved, plunged into its celebration with recklessness and relish.
The dwellers of the Regio Judaeorum took no part in the celebration, butMarsyas saw that a spirit of int
erest invaded the district, even to thedoors of the great Synagogue. Mothers in Israel put aside the wimplesover their faces when they met in the narrow passages or themarket-places to talk of the recurring abomination in lowered voicesand with sidelong glances to see if the velvet-eyed children, who clungto their garments, heard. Fathers in Israel, rabbis and constabularieswere abroad to make preparation against the local characteristic whichtended to turn every popular gathering into a demonstration against theJews. The bloody uproar of the preceding year was fresh in the fear ofthe people, and though Lysimachus had spread abroad the promise of theproconsul, the Regio Judaeorum had cause to be doubtful of the favor ofa former persecutor.
But as the young man entered the Gentile portion of the city, he sawthat, from the Lochias to the Gate of the Necropolis, Alexandria was nolonger a city of normal life and labor but a play-ground for revel andlawlessness. The two main avenues which crossed the city toward thefour cardinal points were cleared of traffic and the marks of wheel andhoof were stamped out by crowds that filled the roadways. The crowdingglories of Alexandrian architecture which lined these noblehighways--temples, palaces, theaters, baths, gymnasia, stadia and fora,high marks of both Greek and Roman society--were wreathed, pillar andplinth, with laurel and roses, lilies and myrtle, nelumbo and lotus.
Fountains gave up perfumed water; aromatic gums in bowls set uponstaves fumed and burned and were filling the dead airs of theAlexandrian calm with oriental musks; everywhere were the reedyshrilling of pipe, the tinkle of castanet, the mellow notes of flutesand the muttering of drums. Wine was flowing like water; immensepublic feasts were in progress, at which droves of sheep and oxen wereserved to gathered multitudes, which were never full-fed except atFlora's bounty. Processions were streaming along the streets, meetingat intersections to romp, break up in revel and end in excess. Tens ofthousands with one impulse, one law, frolicked, fought, drank, danced,sang, piped, wooed, forgot everything, grudges and all, except Floraand her license and bounty. The citizens were no longer thedescendants of Quirites, remnant of the Pharaohs or the Macedoniankings, but satyrs, fauns, bacchantes, nymphs, mimes and harlequins.
Marsyas kept away from the crowds and went by deserted paths towardRhacotis.
He knew without inquiry where to find the Nazarene quarter. It wasmarked by the strange, strained silence that hovers over houses wherelife is not secure, by poverty, by orderliness, by the patient faces ofthe humble dwellers, by the brotherly greeting that the few citizensgave him as he approached. He saw many of the garrison loiteringabout, but they permitted him to pass without notice.
The roar of the merrymaking without swept into the quiet passages likea titanic purr of satisfaction. The young man had grown away from histoleration of solitude. His Essenic training had suffered change; itsusages, at variance with his nature, had become difficult as soon asthe opportunity for more congenial habits had presented itself. Only afew weeks before, he could voyage the giant breadth of theMediterranean, excluding himself from the contaminating Nazarenes,without effort. Now, he asked himself how he was to live among thesepeople for three days.
He found the quarter absolutely packed with people, and realized thenhow many followers of Jesus of Nazareth there were in Alexandria, andhow thoroughly Flaccus had weeded them out of the rest of the city.
He looked about him, grew impatient, and, with the ready invention of aman who has lived only by devices for the past many months, made up hismind to house himself elsewhere than in the crowded Nazarene quarter.
"I will go to the ship," he said to himself. "It is victualed andready for the prince's arrival to weigh anchor. No one but my seamenneed know that I am there, and they will be too intent on Flora tospeak of me abroad in the city!"
He turned promptly and made his way down the quarter toward the harbor.Within sound of the waters lapping on the wharf piling, a soldier ofthe city garrison stepped into his way.
"Back!" he said harshly.
Marsyas stopped.
"Why may I not pass?" he demanded.
"None passes from this rebel's nest hereafter!"
Saul of Tarsus: A Tale of the Early Christians Page 18
